How Beautiful It Is
by Linneam
Summary: A New Year's Eve party. A drunk and lonely boy. A huge mistake. A little, blue plus sign. Post 4x04, AU. Klaine.
1. Six Weeks

**Honestly, I didn't want to preface this with anything, but I can never seem to just start a story without opening my mouth. Haha. Welcome to How Beautiful It Is. I will admit, I am notorious for starting fics and never quite finishing, but I already have roughly fifteen chapters of this finished (though there is a large gap in the middle of two separate sets, but that will hopefully not hold anything up). That said, I intend to update every Thursday. The title was stolen from an aria of the same name from the opera _The Turn of the Screw._ Nothing you recognize is mine. **

**Also, if you happen to be one of my _Looking Through Your Eyes_ readers... I am SO sorry for my lack of updates. This story popped into my head a while back, and I haven't been able to crank anything out for Looking since, but I am working on it. I swear. Now, that said... Enjoy!**

The icy February air froze Blaine's tears to his cheeks as he sprinted up the half mile-long driveway, and the persistent breeze grated against his fingers' already dry, flaky skin as he rapped on the old, wooden door. Two minutes and a hand full of painfully bloody knuckles later, his very confused best friend peered out at him. Neither of the two said a word before the older man pulled him through the wide entryway, down a set of stairs, and into a surprisingly cozy little kitchen. Blaine waited until his host placed two steaming cups on the well-worn oak table before he spoke. "Wes."

His best friend's eyes widened at the heartbroken tone in Blaine's voice, but when he spoke, it was with an air of false cheerfulness. "Blaine. I can say first names too." Blaine didn't crack a smile. "But really, B. We've been friends for years. I know everything. Is this a Kurt issue? A parent issue? Or something else?"

"Wes," he answered in that same, choked tone. "She's pregnant."

"She who?" The look of confusion painting Wes' face slowly morphed into one of frightened comprehension. "No... Please tell me you don't mean _the_ she."

"What other she would it be, Wes?" Blaine groaned. "I have slept with exactly one she in my entire life. I never thought- That night wasn't supposed to happen. This wasn't supposed to happen."

"How'd you find out?" Wes asked, his voice sympathetic.

Blaine thrust his phone into the older boy's hand. He still hadn't closed the message. "I need to talk to you," Wes read aloud. "She told you through text?"

"Keep reading," Blaine mumbled, his eyes fixated on a table.

"You don't want to talk to her; sleeping with her was a mistake; you were drunk and just wanted to feel close to someone; you ruined a really important, serious relationship; blah, blah, bl- Holy hell. Well, that's one way to do it." The older boy frowned down at the picture of a familiar, unmanicured hand holding the positive pregnancy test. The image was still vividly ingrained in Blaine's mind - the baby blue linoleum floor; the white marble vanity; the pale fingers, slightly blurry from their trembling; and clearest of all, the distinct pink plus sign. "What did you say to her?"

"I didn't," Blaine mumbled, still refusing to meet Wes' eyes. "I couldn't."

"Blaine." In that one word, Wes' voice completely shifted. No longer was he Blaine's surprised, sympathetic best friend. This was the voice of Warbler Wes, the no- nonsense council member. For many Warblers, it was the only Wes that existed, but it was a side Blaine rarely saw outside the confines of their rehearsal space. "Text her. Call her. Do something. You will not leave her alone in all this. You are not that guy."

"I know," Blaine grumbled, properly chastised. "What do I even say?"

"I don't know, B, but you have to say something." Soft, friendly Wes was back. "Let her know that you'll be there through this, that you're not going to run out. You aren't going to run out, are you?"

Blaine's head snapped up, and his eyes then fixated on Wes, anger building behind them. "Of course not. Damn it, Wes. You know I wouldn't do that."

"But she doesn't," his friend countered with a slight smirk. "Just text her back. Then we can talk or go kill zombies and pretend this isn't happening."

With a silent nod, Blaine glanced at the messages again. Beneath the picture, two one-line messages waited for him. "No, we need to talk," followed twenty minutes later by, "Please answer me." A wave of guilt rolled over him as he saw a third, waiting unread beneath them. "This wasn't just my mistake. Please don't pretend you're not involved."

Still full of doubt and confusion, the teen opened a new message:

**To: Elli C.**

_This is just as much my fault as it is yours. Meet tomorrow after classes at the Lima Bean. We'll figure this out._

Her reply was instantaneous, as if she'd been staring at her phone, awaiting his reply. Guiltily, Blaine realized that it probably wasn't a far cry from the truth.

**From: Elli C.**

_I will see you then. Thank you, Blaine._

* * *

"No! No, no, no, no- Damn it!" Wes' character fell to his death, a trio of zombies closing in instantly on the virtual bloody corpse, and a glowing, GAME OVER, filled the screen, illuminating the dark basement bedroom. "Dude! Where were you?"

In the two hours Blaine had been there, they'd had this discussion five times. Wes would die due to Blaine's lack of cover, Blaine would apologize for his inattention, and the game would restart within five minutes, only to repeat the cycle. "Sorry. I got distracted again. Next game will be better."

"No. Enough is enough," Wes exclaimed this time, evident frustration oozing from his voice. "Obviously, shooting at and feeding your best friend to zombies isn't enough to solve this problem, so we're going to have to talk about it."

"Just start the game, Wes."

"J_ust start the game, Wes,_" his friend mimicked. "You haven't been playing the game. Something other than zombies is eating your brain, and we both know what it is."

The controller slipped from Blaine's fingers and onto the floor with a carpet-dulled thud. "I am so stupid."

"You made a mistake," Wes stated, as if it weren't the end of Blaine's world.

"A mistake is forgetting to call someone back or leaving the seat up," argued Blaine miserably. "I cheated Wes. I was so insecure about whether he loved me that I got drunk, hooked up with someone I'm not even attracted to, and got her pregnant. I hurt him. There's a kid coming into this world who is almost guaranteed to have a screwed up life in one way or another. This is so much more than a mistake."

With a highly exaggerated roll of his eyes, Wes quickly agreed. "Okay, it's more than a mistake. You've screwed everything up, your life is over, your kid is going to hate you, you'll never find love again, and you will die alone at age eighty-two in a nursing home where your cruel, uncaring attendant has you entirely convinced you're a farm animal. Is that what you want to hear?"

"Yes," Blaine pouted, unable to contain the small smile elicited by his friend's sarcasm. It last only a second. "I just don't know how this happened."

"Well, when a man is sexually frustrated and finds a woman who will- Ouch!" Blaine's foot connected soundly with his friend's ribs across the couch. "My point is that you know exactly how this happened, physically and emotionally. It's not about the past because you already know the why and how of that. You need to figure out what comes next. Given everything that's happened, if you had your say, where would you be in five years?"

"With Kurt, in New York," Blaine answered instantly.

"Okay," Wes sighed, Warbler-leader voice rearing its ugly head. "Right now, you and Kurt aren't speaking. So to begin, how are you going to fix that?"

"When I texted him today, before I came here, he told me to stop texting and calling him because he can't handle my apologizing right now. He said I owe him the chance to think and breathe without me trying to shove sorrys down his throat, and he's right. If he doesn't call me, I will talk to him about all of this during his spring break."

"Alright," Wes answered briskly. "That is the Kurt issue as resolved as it can be. Now for the bigger issue. Elli and the baby. Tell me again, but in more detail. Where do you see yourself in five years?"

Closing his eyes, Blaine tried to picture it. In his mind's eye, he could see it all: the small, intricately decorated flat in a less-than-elegant neighborhood; Kurt's interior design genius evident everywhere, from the pale blue striped walls to the designer-worthy handmade curtains; a framed photo on the end-table with the happy couple and their wedding party grinning up at the camera; and a vocal grey tabby cat rubbing up against their legs the moment they walked in. Blaine would be home first, out early from the final classes of his senior year; Kurt would walk in later to a homemade dinner, excitedly discussing what he believed to be a successful audition for an off-Broadway show. They wouldn't have everything yet, but they would be happy together, maybe even to the point of considering bringing a new life into their little world.

"So you see yourself having kids," Wes noted kindly, his earlier sarcasm instantly dissolved by Blaine's raw, tender description. "Do you see yourself having a little one before that? I mean, now that there is one, do you- Do you want it there?"

His eyes still closed, the vision changed slightly. Coloring books and stuffed animals littered the floor, and little fingerprints blurred each face in the photo from sticky fingers pointing and asking again and again, "Who that?" The wine glasses from their homemade meal were replaced by ceramic coffee cups proclaiming, 'I 3 My Daddies,' and, 'World's Greatest Dad,' and instead of rubbing against their legs, their slim grey kitten darted under the couch at the sound of little footsteps bursting through the door. His handsome husband would trudge in smiling behind a dark, curly-haired toddler, who would run to Blaine screaming, "Daddy! Daddy! Look what I made today!"And Blaine would look and admire it before placing it on the already-covered refrigerator door. Having already survived the baby blues once, the pair might be considering bringing a second little bundle of joy into their home as well. "I- Yeah. I mean, I know it would be a hard way to go, but... I would rather know what happened than not, I think, and I would definitely rather it be alive for things to happen. Obviously, if I really had a say, this wouldn't be happening now at all; I would rather be out of college and married and adopting a little one who needs a loving home. But as it is..."

"You want her to have this baby," Wes said, slightly awed. "You genuinely want to be a dad to this kid."

As Wes spoke the words, the surprising realization settled in Blaine's chest. For as quickly as he'd come to the decision, he was almost eerily certain. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do."


	2. Seven Weeks

**Okay, so you guys kind of made my week. :) Thank you SO much for the follows and for the reviews. I would LOVE to see more of both. Also, I'm going to give you a bit of a warning. My midterm grades were not exactly what I was hoping for, so I have grounded myself (I'm a sophomore in college who lives on campus... My parents don't do that anymore, so I have to punish myself. Haha), which means no Facebook, no _reading_ FanFiction, no board games, and no spending excessive amounts of time writing. That said, I have a small something done, but I feel like it's a lot of filler and not what I wanted that chapter to be; that's not saying it's bad, but it is saying it doesn't really advance the plot beyond developing relationships a bit. So, as far as that goes, I would be definitely willing to upload it next Thursday on schedule, or you guys can wait a week and get a bit better-developed chapter. So... That's up to you all, really. PM me or review to give me your thoughts. (This is assuming that I won't have completed everything I need to get done in order to unground myself. I'd say that's a safe bet, but who knows. Maybe I'll be all productive and stuff one day, and I'll get to fix it up and post the better chapter on time, but I can't guarantee something like that.) Now, all that said, I hope you enjoy the chapter ahead! Let me know what you think, and thank you again! You all rock.**

* * *

The Lima Bean was packed when Blaine entered late Thursday afternoon. Wave after wave of nausea rained down on him as he secured the last open table, and his medium drip sat untouched in front of him, an idea abandoned the moment the first sip could not bypass the lump in his throat. He hadn't been able to keep a bite down since he'd seen the pregnancy test, but his stomach was so tied in knots that even it didn't seem to mind.

Blaine wasn't ready for this. He and Elli hadn't come face to face since the incident. Six weeks had passed since New Year's Eve, six weeks since his entire life fell apart. Kurt hadn't come home for Christmas; Kurt hadn't been home in_ months_. Their phone calls had stopped sometime in late November, and their weekly Skype dates had been repeatedly postponed. The Warbler New Year's Eve party had seemed so harmless at the time, just a few drinks with a few old friends and their Crawford Country Songbird counterparts. Nothing could go wrong... Until the few drinks became a few too many, and an equally intoxicated Songbird revealed herself to be equally lonely. Then...

He winced at the painful memory. It hadn't been fun or felt good, and in the end, he felt more broken than ever before. He'd wanted a connection, to feel close to someone. Anyone. But while sharing what should have been the most intimate experience of his life- while sharing what should have been _Kurt's_-, he felt more alone than he had in all the months of broken communication, lonely days, and sleepless nights.

The faint jingle of the door chimes amidst the chatter pulled Blaine from his thoughts, and she walked in. Loose auburn curls flowed halfway down her back, and brown, plastic glasses framed her red, puffy eyes. She was not in uniform. "Hi."

"Hi," Blaine replied, the hesitancy in his tone matching hers. "Here. Sit. Do you want any coffee?"

Paling slightly, the young woman shook her head. "No thank you." She swallowed heavily. "The smell is hard enough to stomach without actually trying to drink it."

"Do you want to talk outside then?" Blaine asked instantly. Elli shook her head, but before she could provide a verbal answer, a waiter passed by with a tray of vanilla lattes, and she was gone, her face faintly greening as she bolted for the bathroom.

For a moment, Blaine considered chasing her, perhaps to hold back her hair or rub her back, but he quickly decided against it. Instead, he collected her purse and dropped his coffee cup in the trash, instead purchasing two mild green teas. He was already by the door when she reemerged, still pale but a much more human color.

"Here. Tea," Blaine murmured softly, holding the door open for her.

Gingerly, she took a sip from the styrofoam cup, sighing contentedly. "This is the first thing today that hasn't turned my stomach. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Blaine mumbled, trying to smile. "So... I'm guessing you didn't go to classes today?"

Elli shook her head, fidgeting with the hem of her ankle-length patchwork skirt. "No. I went to my Ob/Gyn. I had to find out for sure."

"And?"

"It wasn't a false positive."

Blaine sighed, releasing a breath he hadn't known he was holding, and slid down the wall, landing on the ground with a soft thud. "Wow."

"Yeah." She plopped next to him, drawing her knees to her chest. "I know."

"So what happens now?"

The pair was silent for a moment, neither knowing exactly what to say. Elli seemed to be resisting tears, and Blaine was just lost. He didn't know her. When Kurt cried, he needed to be held, sang to, reassured. When Wes cried, he didn't acknowledge the tears; if Blaine could continue the conversation or make him laugh, he would talk about it when he was ready. But when Elli cried... He had no idea.

Finally, after a few tears had already slipped down her face, she choked out the words that had been stuck in her throat. "I'm not going to kill it. I can't, and I won't. I don't know if I want to be its mom or if I want to be in its life at all, but I will not abort it."

"Thank god," Blaine answered immediately, meeting her gaze with a shaky smile. "I know it's your body, and I know I would have had to respect your choice if you went that way, but I really hoped you wouldn't want that."

Her eyebrows shot up at that. "Really? I'm going to be honest. Given the little bit I know of you, I was almost certain you would."

"Why?"

Elli elicited a dry, humorless laugh. "One night stand, cheated on your girlfriend of almost two years, ignored all messages, tried to wipe me from your memory, took five hours to respond... You tell me."

His eyebrows rose slightly at the word _girlfriend_, but he let it slide. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right about the rest. "Wow. I never realized what a jerk I come off as on paper. I'm sorry. About everything. I know it doesn't change anything, but I'm- I have made a lot of mistakes, but they aren't who I am."

"Then who are you?" the copper-haired teen asked, eying him warily.

Blaine fell silent for another moment, unsure of how to pitch himself accurately. "I am Blaine Anderson. I am a musician and a former Warbler and currently the only openly gay student at William McKinley High School. I was in a one-year-nine-month-long committed relationship that ended on New Year's Day because of what happened on New Year's Eve. I am currently student body president, the president of a superhero club, and one of the lead soloists in the McKinley glee club."

"You're gay?" The words slipped from her mouth, seemingly accidentally, and her hands immediately flew to her cheeks. "Oh, god. I'm sorry. That was rude."

"It's fine," Blaine answered quickly, chuckling to himself. "Yes, I'm gay. My boyfriend-" Sigh. Rip heart open. Continue. "My ex-boyfriend moved to New York in September, and we hadn't spoken, Skyped, or seen each other since before Thanksgiving... He was always too busy with his work or with his friends. And when I'm drunk, I make a lot of romantic mistakes... The first time, I kissed a girl and almost convinced myself I was bisexual. The second, I tried to convince him that we should do things neither of us were ready for, and the third..." He gestured around them, his eyes downcast. "I think it's safe to say I never want to get drunk again. If it's okay to ask, what's your story?"

"Elli Craig. Content background vocalist in the Songbirds, fluent in Spanish and studying French, Honors student, and Peace Corps applicant. Walked out of a two-year relationship on December 30, 2012 because he was pressuring me to have sex. So naturally, the proper step after leaving one hormone-driven pig was to get completely hammered and sleep with the first boy who would have me as payback. I'm still not sure exactly how any amount of alcohol convinced me that that was a good idea." She chuckled dryly,, taking a moment to enjoy the irony for what it was. "And six weeks later, here we are."

"Here we are," he echoed, softly. Though the irony should have made him laugh, Blaine felt nothing but sorrow for both himself and his companion. "So... When's your next appointment?"

"Not for another four weeks," she answered quickly. "It's on, um..." The teen absentmindedly scrolled through her phone, eventually declaring, "Two o'clock on March fourteenth. Do you want to come?"

Blaine opened his mouth to reply when a painfully familiar song blared from his pocket. _My heart stops when you look at me, just one touch and baby-_ "I'm sorry. I have to take this, but I will be there. I promise. Hello?"

_"Wes called me and said it was important. You have five minutes."_

"It's him, isn't it? The boyfriend?" she whispered, to which he nodded briskly. "I'll text you the info about the appointment. Bye, Blaine."

Waving her off with a mouthed thanks, his entire focus shifted to the phone. "Kurt, I am so-"

_"I know, you're sorry,_" Kurt snapped. _"That's not what this conversation is supposed to be about. Wes said something was wrong. Stop wasting your breath on apologies and tell me what's going on."_

"It's all related," Blaine answered, trying not to be too disheartened yet. He'd called. He knew something was wrong, and he cared enough to call. "It all ties back to New Year's. It's about the hook up... It wasn't-"

_"Blaine, I can't do this. Just cut to whatever's wrong. Please don't put me through this."_

"She's pregnant." Blaine had no choice but to blurt it out; he couldn't explain, he couldn't lead into it... "The girl I hooked up with is pregnant with my baby."

_"The **girl**? You slept with a- And she's- How could you be that stupid?"_

"I know," Blaine mumbled, crumbling. "I know. I can't believe this is happening."

His stomach churned when he heard the faint sob on the other end of the line, and Kurt's next words destroyed all hope and composure Blaine had left. _"Maybe we- Maybe we can talk when I come home for spring break, but for right now... This doesn't change anything. I hope it all works out for you, Blaine, but please don't call me anymore."_

"Okay," Blaine whispered into the already dead line. The tears fell before the phone even left his ear.

* * *

Blaine returned to Wes' house that afternoon, forcing a fake-smile at his friend's parents before trudging downstairs to the basement apartment. "Damn it, Wes. I told you he was still angry. I told you he needed to not talk to me for a while. So you _called him_?"

"He is your best friend," Wes answered calmly from amidst the sea of papers and textbooks on his bed. "Well, your _other_ best friend. You love him, and you needed him to be there. I know you royally screwed up, but I made the mistake of thinking he'd look past that because you were his friend first. It didn't go well, I take it?"

Blaine shook his head, slumping down at the little table. "He asked how I could be so stupid then told me it didn't change anything. Would you call that well?"

"Damn..." Wes murmured softly, shuffling the pile of papers away and throwing an arm around Blaine's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

Blaine leaned into the embrace. Whatever anger he harbored towards Wes for calling could not compare to the thankfulness he felt for having him there, helping him cope. He dreaded Wes' imminent return to university. "It's okay. I mean, it's as okay as it can be, given everything. But, uh- When's your flight leave for Washington?"

"Six o'clock tomorrow morning," Wes grimaced. "I should land with about forty-five minutes before my first class. Something to both love and hate about coming home on three day weekends, I guess."

"I'm really glad you came home," Blaine confessed quietly. "I don't know if I'd have been able to handle this by myself. I feel like I would have made some really bad decisions if you hadn't been here to keep me sane."

"That's what I'm here for," Wes answered, a smile in his voice. "Encouraging only the healthiest of crazy. But really, you know you can call me, right? I don't care if I'm on the other side of the country passed out asleep, I will answer."

Nodding, Blaine replied, "I know. Thank you."

"No problem," Wes smiled, almost immediately throwing an American Law book at him. "Now shut up and look for the answers to this. Chapter seven."

With a laugh, Blaine cracked the book, settling into the monotonous, familiar routine he so badly needed.


	3. Nine Weeks

**So... You have every right to hate me. It's been _way_ too long. But I'm back, hopefully in weekly update mode as well. This is kind of a filler; it's friendship and relationship building, and there will be more action in the future. Promise. :) Hope you enjoy. Reviews literally make my day when they appear. Thanks for reading!**

* * *

"Are you okay?"

Blaine sighed, turning away from his locker. It had been ten days since he met with Elli. Seven of them, he had spent at McKinley, which meant he'd been asked, "Are you okay?" at least fourteen times. "Sam, I'm fine. I promise. All of this future planning is just stressing me out." It wasn't a lie, exactly. Planning for the future was what stressed him out. His future planning just included a few elements that the average high school senior's didn't. "It's fine."

"Okay," Sam answered, still eying Blaine warily. "Are you already worrying about your NYADA audition?"

"I'm not sure I'm applying to NYADA anymore," he answered honestly, leaning against a neighboring locker with a sigh. "I've started looking at Ohio State, UNO, Genessee Community College, Col-"

"Wait," Sam cut him off. "The Lima community college? Why not NYADA? Or NYU? Julliard? I thought you wanted to do music."

"I think I might want to stick around here," Blaine answered hollowly, trying to come up with an excuse. "I- um, I always wanted to get out of Ohio so I could be free to date without feeling like everyone in the world would judge me, but after Kurt... I don't want to date anymore. And what about making a living? I need to be able to pay bills and support myself. You can't do that with a degree in musical theatre unless you're really good. I mean, really good... Like Kurt good or Rachel good. I'm not."

"Dude, that just nerves talking," Sam answered. " You belong in New York, with Kurt, singing your heart out. You can make it. Just apply. You can apply to all the stupid Ohio schools, too, if you really want to, but don't just not apply because you're scared."

Blaine wanted nothing more than to change the subject. Every second, every word, he came closer to spilling the secret, and he wasn't ready. His parents didn't know yet. Her parents didn't know yet. Kurt hadn't spilled to anyone yet. He couldn't blow it here. "What about you, Mr. Peptalk? Where are you applying?"

It was Sam's turn to look chagrined, and Blaine almost felt bad for bringing it up. Almost."I'm not."

"What do you mean you're not?"

"I- uh- got my SAT's back. It's official. I'm too stupid to go to college."

Blaine's heart sank as he watched Sam crumple. "Test scores don't mean anything, Sam. Not a thing. You have overcome every obstacle you've ever faced. Dyslexia? No problem. Your family's financial struggles? You busted your butt taking care of your siblings. You kept your family going for all those months. You've overcome other peoples' struggles, too. When the New Directions needed you to win nationals? You bailed them out. When Kurt was being bullied, you were the one who led the charge to keep him safe. You have never let anything keep you down. Don't let a standardized test score kill that record."

"Now who's Mr. Peptalk?" the blonde grumbled, torn between misty eyes and a fierce glare. "I'm not college material. I should never have thought I was to begin with."

"Let's make a deal," Blaine erupted suddenly, a thought hitting him. "I will apply to my New York schools and try to have faith that I can make everything work if you apply to the same number of schools I do and try to have faith in yourself to be as amazing as we all know you are. We both win."

"Deal," Sam answered almost instantly. "If for no other reason than I know you're going to be a star one day, and then when I remind you it's because of me, you'll have to support me too."

With an amazingly unforced laugh, Blaine clapped his friend's shoulder. "You have yourself a deal. But when you're a college graduate and I'm an broke artist, starving on the streets, you have to return the favor."

* * *

_Fear._

"This week," Mr. Schue announced triumphantly, "we are going to discuss our biggest fears. I know for a lot of the seniors in the room, stress is catching up fast. College application deadlines are hitting, your financial aid is being processed, and you're finally hitting the walls of reality. It is a scary time. But it's not necessarily the scariest thing going on in your lives, either. So this week, I want all of you to share your biggest fear. Sing about it. Sing about how you're going to conquer it. Maybe you'll find the support you need to do it in this very room."

Puck's hand shot in the air. "What if there's nothing that scares you?"

"Then you're lying to yourself and to us, and you're doing the assignment anyway. This is supposed to make us a stronger team, which means everyone needs to do their part. Now, who's first?"

Without Rachel to jump in with the perfectly planned ballad, the room was dead silent. Blaine, who would normally jump in to start, had zero interest in exposing the fears plaguing his mind. It was several moments before Unique finally stepped to the front of the room, clearing her throat nervously. "Today, I had a slushie thrown in my face. Twice. I was checked into three lockers, called five different slurs, threatened for being a 'twink,' told I was an abomination that would be sent straight to hell for pretending to be a girl, and offered a free castration from the hockey team so I could be as ball-less as I wanted to be. It was a normal day."

A small uproar filled the room, but Unique held up her hand, quieting them instantly.

"Their threats aren't what scare me. I am proud of who I am, and a few Neanderthals in letterman jackets aren't going to change that. My biggest fear is that it will never get better. That people won't learn or grow. I am afraid that this will be my normal for the rest of my life. But I'm hopeful. You guys give me hope, and it does get better. It already has. I don't have to be Wade every day and wear clothes that feel wrong. You are all already helping me face my fears, and I can't thank you enough for it, but I have to hope that someday, somewhere, what we have in this room will be my normal.

"This is a song that has gotten me through for the last few years, and I think I'm ready to share it with you guys."

She nodded to the pianist confidently, and as he always did, he played exactly the right notes. Unique's alto filled the room, her eyes closed as a tear rolled down her cheek.

_Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high_

_There's a land that I've heard of once in a lullaby._

_Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue_

_And the dreams that you dare to dream,_

_Really do come true._

A knot formed in Blaine's throat as Unique's sorrow-laden voice filled the choir room. He didn't need to look around to know that he was not the only misty-eyed member of the choir. For the briefest of moments, everything in his life seemed a little less terrifying.

_Someday I'll wish upon a star_

_And wake up where the clouds are far behind me._

_Where troubles melt like lemon drops,_

_High above the chimney tops,_

_That's where you'll find me._

He was certain he understood Unique's emotion better than anyone in the room, and for the first time in a week, he felt. He wasn't numb; he wasn't closing off or pretending to be okay. He just... Got it. And his heart hurt for his friend.

_Somewhere over the rainbow, bluebirds fly_

_Birds fly over the rainbow_

_Why then, oh why can't I?_

_If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow_

_Why, oh why can't I?_

Only haunted silence remained as her voice faded, and Blaine led the assault for the expected group hug, holding on tightly. "It will get there," he promised quietly. "It will."

It was several minutes before the weepy glee club members returned to their seats and Mr. Scheuster asked the inevitable, "Who's next?"

Connected and liberated, Blaine still did not raise his hand. He was out of the haze, but he was far from ready to let his secret escape.


	4. Eleven Weeks

**Okay, so I missed my deadline by about two-and-a-half hours. Sorry! But I wanted the phone conversation to be in there, so I had to finish that up. :/ I hope its presence makes up for the slight tardiness. Now... I want to thank you all for your continued support. Your reviews/alerts/favorites completely make my day when I find them in my inbox. Good or bad, I always enjoy getting opinions! :) Now, that said, read on, review, and enjoy. **

* * *

The smell of antiseptic filled Blaine's nostrils the moment the automatic doors opened, and an involuntary shudder raged through his body as memories washed over him - eyes opening to darkness, the sounds and smell his only companions; the burning solution further blinding him and mingling with the tears running down his face; the difficulty breathing; the bruises; the slurs playing over and over and over in his mind after Sadie Hawkins; the fear...

"No," he whispered, meandering through the unfamiliar hallways. "This is a happy visit. Stop it."

It took him three wrong turns and two elevator rides, but he finally arrived in a small waiting room, where an anxious looking Elli smiled up at him. "Is it ridiculous that I'm relieved you're here? Like, I know that we don't really know each other, but I feel like you're probably the only person in the world who knows how I feel right now."

"No. I feel the exact same way," he confessed quietly, sinking into the chair next to her. "I've, um, only told two people. My best friend, who's in Washington for school, and my ex, who was obviously less than supportive. It's been a lonely couple of weeks."

"I know," she answered, drawing her knees to her chest in the chair. "I haven't told anyone yet. Not even my best friend. I don't know what I'd have done if we hadn't been texting so much. I mean, the Songbirds think I'm anorexic, and since it's a boarding school, my parents don't know anything's wrong yet. Everyone still thinks I haven't had sex since I was a sophomore, so..."

"Wow. So you really haven't talked to anyone but me? At all?"

"No one," she confirmed softly. "I don't want anyone telling me what I should or shouldn't do. At least not until I figure out what I'm going to do about it, which... I may be ready to tell them soon. Can we, um, talk about that after the appointment? Get food or something and just sit down and have a discussion? I don't want to throw it at you before the appointment."

"Of-of course." Blaine's stomach knotted up, concern immediately weighing on him. He certainly did not like the sound of that. "Of course."

She nodded and reached over to squeeze his hand, her fingers icy and slightly damp. "Don't worry. Focus on what's about to happen instead."

"Well, that was..."

"Intense?" Elli laughed, swishing her skirt around playfully as they exited the hospital. "I'm always so happy when I get out of there. I hate doctors, so it's like a breath of fresh air to escape, you know?"

"I know," he promised. "Hospitals give me the heeby-jeebies, so it takes a lot of willpower not to run out screaming every time I'm physically capable of it."

"Which tells me there have been bad times when you weren't physically capable of it," she noted softly, looking up at him with her large, emerald eyes. Blaine couldn't help but notice the underlying understanding in her gaze. "I know you were an emergency transfer, which Dalton has never really allowed, and I heard about what Sebastian did last year. I'm sorry you had to be in there for so long, and for whatever the idiots of your past did to you."

It was the first time in Blaine's memory in which he didn't feel the incessant need to flee at any reference to the Sadie Hawkins dance he'd worked so hard to repress. Instead, he smiled. "Thank you. I wish I could say I knew something about you, but..." He trailed off awkwardly, paused a moment, then began again. Where do you want to eat?"

"Chu's?" she answered instantly, her pupils dilating slightly as her eyes widened. "I have been craving orange chicken all week, but I haven't been able to get off-campus to get it."

Blaine chuckled lightly at her eagerness. "Orange chicken? In all of the world of food, you crave orange chicken?"

"And raspberry Tootsie Pops, which have been a bit more accessible. But seriously. Orange chicken? _Please_?"

Laughing, Blaine nodded, beginning the short, two-block walk. "How could I deny you anything? Besides, you said we needed to discuss something."

"Right." The playful teasing atmosphere evaporated instantly at his words and she nodded tersely. No attempt at conversation was made until their waitress had taken their orders.

"So..."

Blaine could see the gears turning in her head, no doubt trying to find the best way to deliver the news. He'd left the decision in her hands, promising to stick around regardless of the answer. _He_ knew he wanted to keep the baby, but as she had request in one of their text conversations, he hadn't given any input into their future. "Just say it. You don't need to tread lightly here."

"I'm not keeping the baby. Like I said before - I will not kill it- him or her-, but I am not ready to be a mom."

He nodded slowly, feeling as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over him. "Then where do we go from here?"

"We look for families to adopt him," she said, sounding a decade older than she had even seconds before. "People who will love him and who are _ready_ to be parents."

"What if-" The words caught in his throat, the idea forming and finding life before he'd even really had time to think it through. He knew he wanted to be a dad. He knew he did _not_ want to miss out on his child's life. He'd been making plans, having convinced himself that since he wanted to keep the baby, she must as well. NYU had family housing. All of the Ohio schools were close enough to drive back every weekend, if not more often. He had a trust fund set up by his grandmother waiting for him the moment he turned eighteen. He knew he was young. He knew it would be hard. But he had been ready for them to do this. Maybe... Maybe _he _was ready to do this. "What if _I_ want to adopt him or her? Or- Take custody, I guess? You wouldn't have to have anything to do with us. No child support, no phone calls... I promise I would leave you out of it. Unless you wanted an open adoption. You know, visitation or pictures... It can be on whatever terms you want, but..."

"I don't know," she answered, her voice hard. "I don't even know if I'm _allowed_ to say no."

"Would you? You know, say no?"

For the briefest of seconds, Blaine was certain a flicker of guilt flashed in her eyes, but she steeled her gaze quickly. "I don't know."

* * *

"_You told her you want to raise the baby alone? Blaine."_

"I know, Wes," Blaine sighed, staring at his bedroom ceiling, his cell phone pressed tightly to his ear. "It was crazy and poorly thought out, and I shouldn't have done it, but I did."

"_Did you mean it?"_

"I- God, I don't know. Yes? I think so? I mean- Ugh," he sighed again, thrusting his feet on the floor so the standard pacing could commence. "Wes, what am I doing?"

"_You tell me, B."_

They sat in silence for a long while, and Blaine carefully studied a framed photo of his brother, father, and himself on his desk, all the while trying to match his friend's steady breathing to avoid what he could only assume was inevitable hyperventilation. Finally, as if sensing his friends distress, Wes stepped back in. _"Okay, deep breath. Talk to me."_

"I don't know what to say."

Another sigh issued from the receiver. _"You know you're my best friend, right?"_

"Yeah."

"_And that I love you?"_

"Wes, where are you going with this?"

The next question stopped Blaine in his tracks. _"Why are you doing this? Have you thought about it?"_

"What?"

"_I know you've thought about what you want to do. You've sent me all the research. But in all your planning, have you thought about __**why **__you're doing it?" _

Wes' voice was kind, but his words grated against Blaine. Of course he knew why he was doing this. He'd done nothing but think about it from the moment he found out. He was doing this because- "I have no idea."

"_That's what I was afraid of. Try to talk it out. Why do you want to keep this baby?"_

"I'm it's dad."

"And?"

"It's my baby."

"_And?" _Silence. _"You're not really saying anything, Blaine,"_ Wes admonished, his tone still soft. _"Are you sure you aren't doing this because you think you're __**supposed **__to do it? I mean, I am glad you stayed for her. That's what you should have done, but this... Is there a reason beyond, 'I'm it's dad,' that can answer it?"_

"Yes. I mean, I don't know the words, but- I don't just feel like I should. I _want _to. I'm gay. I don't know if I'm ever going to have another baby that is _mine_, beginning to end. The idea of giving that up..." Not for the first time, tears welled up in his eyes, and Blaine fought to keep them from falling, as usual to no avail. "I can't. I love it. I haven't seen it, I haven't heard it, I haven't felt it. The closest visuals of it I have are a blue plus sign, other peoples' ultrasound photos, and an olive. But I still love it- him or her."

There was a small smile in Wes' voice. _"Now we're getting somewhere. But, B, have you thought about what's best for him or her? This may be what you want, but is it what's best for __**both **__of you?"_

"That one I have thought about," Blaine murmured, sinking back onto the bed, the family photo now tightly clenched in his hand. His thumb idly traced his father's face, not failing to notice that his arm rested around Cooper, while Blaine stood idly next to them, a fake grin plastered on his face. "I never- _never_- want this baby to think he or she wasn't wanted. I've been there. I know what it's like to have a dad who won't look at you or talk to you or even acknowledge your existence. Having other people that care about you- other almost parents- just isn't the same because you still know that at the end of the day, you weren't wanted by the people who are all but required to love you. I'm not going to do that to him or her. I'm can't. I know I won't be able to give it everything that I had growing up- I'm not going to be rich- but I also know that at the end of the day, I would trade all of the money my dad made in a heartbeat if it meant I could have my dad. _Really _have him, not cohabitate with him or share a thousand awkward stares across the dinner table. So if I can do nothing else, I will give him or her exactly what I never had because he or she deserves that. I _love_ him."

"_Or her,_" Wes added, chuckling. Blaine laughed. _"Fine, you've sold me. You know what you're doing."_

Blaine couldn't stop the short, bark-like laugh that escaped his lips. "I have no idea what I'm doing."

"_Well,"_ Wes snickered, _"I trust that you know why you're doing whatever it is you're doing, which is all I really wanted. You can flounder around all you want from here."_

"Gee, thanks. Good night, Wes."

"_Goodnight, fish boy."_

"What?"

"_Flounder, fish boy... Get it?"_

"_Goodnight_, Wes."


	5. Thirteen Weeks

**It's been a long time... I was blocked, and I could not for the life of me figure out how to proceed. But once I heard of Cory's passing, I had to do something, and it had to involve Finn. Period. And so, it began, and then it kept going. I'm again sorry for delays, no excuse this time except for lack of ideas. Now that this is here, I do believe things will be moving a bit quicker (and with more Kurt!). Also, and I know you hear this all over the place, but reviews really do mean the world; they're _beyond_ helpful in the realm of motivation. Please let me know what you think!**

**Quick question, actually! I've been wanting to update the summary... Which one would draw you in?**

**"I cheated. I was so insecure about whether he loved me that I got drunk, hooked up with someone I'm not even attracted to, and got her pregnant. I hurt him. Now, there's a kid coming into this world who is almost guaranteed to have a screwed up life in one way or another, and it's all my fault. This is so much more than a mistake." Post 4x04, AU. Eventual Klaine."**

**OR**

**"A New Year's Eve party. A drunk and lonely boy. A huge mistake. A little, blue plus sign. 4x04 and onward, AU. Klaine."**

**Just leave a review or shoot me a PM to give me an opinion if you have one!**

* * *

"Hey, wait up," a voice called after him as Blaine left the choir room. Three weeks had passed since his meeting with Elli, and he'd heard nothing from her. While at the beginning, they'd exchanged nearly a hundred messages a day- about everything from childhood memories to be cluster of cells growing inside her, now, there was silence. Blaine had felt nothing but alone in days.

"What's up, Finn?" he asked, his features twisting into yet another fake grin.

The taller man frowned down at him. "We need to talk."

"Are you breaking up with me?" It was a weak joke, and Blaine knew it, but it was the best he could do.

"Kurt told me everything."

"Shit."

* * *

His body was a bundle of nerves as he crossed the threshold of the Hudson-Hummel home, and he lingered in the doorway as Finn crossed through the kitchen, only moving when Finn returned to drag him to the living room. "Dude, chill. My dad's not home. Come on."

Reluctantly, he trudged through the house, settling on the edge of the couch. "Finn, why am I here?"

"I want to hear your side." When Blaine gaped at him, he continued. "Dude, I've been in all of this before. I've been cheated on, I've almost cheated, and most of all, I got my girlfriend pregnant... Kind of. I know I'm probably supposed to be pissed at you for hurting Kurt, and I am. He's my brother, and you broke his heart. But you've also shut down. You haven't sang a song in glee club in, like, weeks, and the only time you smile is when you know someone's looking, and then it's this stupid, fake smile that no one believes. Just, talk to me."

"How long have you known?"

"About two weeks," Finn admitted. "Why did you cheat on my brother?"

Blaine sighed. "I- Three weeks, two days. I hadn't heard his voice in three weeks and two days. Even over Christmas, he would only text because he was planning, decorating and attending the Vogue Christmas party, and then, it was short, one word replies. We hadn't Skyped in a month. I was- I was alone."

Unsolicited tears formed in his eyes as he thought back to that painful month: night after night, staring at his computer screen, just hoping, 'Kurt Hummel has signed online,' would pop up in the corner; a Christmas dinner of macaroni and cheese and chicken breast eaten alone on the sofa watching _It's a Wonderful Life_ and longing for the Christmas' he knew his friends were sharing with their loved ones; and worst of all, the realization that he would be bringing in a new year that might not include the infamous 'Klaine' that had been the highlight of his life thus far. But he would never tell Finn those things.

That was what hurt the most, he decided. Those were things that Kurt should have known, things that Kurt _knew_. His boyfriend had always been aware of every detail of his relationship with his parents - or the lack thereof. He'd known that Blaine spent traditional family holidays either alone or in an uncomfortable suit, doing his best to keep his eyes open and mouth shut at another family gathering. It was just that- for the first time- he hadn't cared, and Blaine hadn't been able to handle that.

"I was weak. I just- I missed him. God, I missed him so much. I _needed _him. I tried to talk to him; I would call, but he'd send it to voicemail. I would text him, but he wouldn't see it for hours, and only rarely responded. So finally- It was New Years, and I was at a party and drunk off my ass, and this girl, who was even more drunk than I was, came up to me and we started talking and dancing, and- It was the biggest mistake of my life. I was alone and afraid and I felt like my world was falling apart without him, so I said okay. I was gone before she woke up."

From Burt's chair, Finn let out a low whistle. "Wow."

"Yeah. Six weeks later, I got a picture of a positive pregnancy test, and now fourteen weeks in, here we are." Blaine sniffed heavily, and his palms smudged the tear tracks on his blotchy face.

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm keeping it."

Finn's confusion and shock were no surprise to Blaine; he'd been bracing himself for that reaction for weeks. "You- You mean you're both keeping it, right? Like, she decided to keep it?"

"No," Blaine answered firmly. "I mean, _I'm_ keeping it. I hope. She wanted to put him or her up for adoption, and I asked if I could take custody. The only thing is- She hasn't spoken to me since."

"Damn. Alone? What'd your parents say when they found out?"

He shook his head wearily, feeling remarkably like a broken record; he'd said these words before. "They don't know yet. _No one_ knows yet. Her, Wes, Kurt, and now you. That's it." He sighed. "And half of those people aren't speaking to me anymore because of it, so I don't really want to press my luck telling anyone else."

A voice- soft, high, and intimately familiar- responded from behind him, and Blaine's heart leapt into his throat. "What if one of those people wants to try figuring this out?"

"Kurt."

* * *

The Lima Bean was unusually vacant that day, with only a handful of other patrons scattered about the café. Almost reflexively, Blaine walked up to the counter, paid for a grande non-fat mocha latte and a medium drip, and settled at what once was their usual table; he hadn't sat there since before New Year's Eve. "Kurt, I am so-"

"Sorry." For the first time, Kurt's words had no bite. His tone was gentle and sad. "I know. But everything's- It's not okay. I'm not okay. We're not okay. " Blaine felt his face fall instantly, but Kurt's hand immediately rested upon his, snapping his attention back to his words. "But I want them to be. It's going to take time and practice and probably more than a few fights, but to me, it's worth it. I miss you, and I really don't want to say goodbye anymore."

His blue eyes met Blaine's hazel, and they exchanged timid smiles. "I don't either," Blaine murmured, squeezing Kurt's hand gently. "But I do want to properly apologize. I'm not only sorry for what I did. I'm sorry for what it did to us and, most of all, for how badly I hurt you. It was selfish and stupid, and it broke the one thing I value most... Us."

"I'm sorry too," Kurt almost-whispered, tears filling his eyes. "What you did was wrong, but I was wrong, too. I- I asked Finn to get your side because I had to know, but it was too painful to ask. I never realized- My life was so busy and so good that I tried to pretend that yours was the same. Plus- Talking to you everyday was too hard. I just- I hung up missing you, and my bed always felt so empty. It reminded me that I couldn't just have coffee with you the next morning or sing a flirty duet with you for one of Mr. Schue's lessons. I missed you, but it was easier to forget how good things could be when it was going to be so long until they could be that way. And coming home- With my job and with classes, I would have only had a week, and the idea of coming back and just having time to get used to you before being ripped apart again was too painful. But then-"

Neither boy noticed his own tears streaming down his face, but each was also acutely aware of his partner's heartbreak. "I am just as low on the NYADA social ladder as I was at McKinley; I spend all of my time learning how to perform, but I haven't been on a stage in months; they, um, offered me a full time position at Vogue- not designing on my own yet, but as part of a design team; and then, on Valentine's Day, my dad came up- he said it was because he knew it'd be hard for me, but- He didn't want to tell me that he had prostate cancer over the phone."

"Oh my god. Kurt-"

The older boy held his hand up. "Wait. I just- When I nailed a dance routine or went up a half step in my range, even with how angry and hurt I was, you were still the person I wanted to celebrate with. When I couldn't figure out if I wanted to stay at NYADA or go back to Vogue, yours was the advice I needed. And when people still made fun of me for my voice being so high, I wanted it to be your shoulder I cried on. I tried dating someone else; we had gotten together just before my dad went in for his first treatment, but when I was sick with worry the entire day, I didn't want to tell him about it; there was no way he could understand how afraid I was, how much I'd already lost. But what was more, I didn't want him to understand. I didn't want to share that part of me with him, because to me, that part... It still belonged with you."

Blaine gaped at him until an affectionate mumble of, "Close your mouth, idiot; you're staring," pulled him out of his stupor, and he quickly intertwined their fingers. "Kurt. I- Wow. I had no idea. How's your dad?"

"My dad's okay," Kurt answered soberly, toying gently with Blaine's thumb. "I mean, chemo has been hard on him, but he's surviving; he's strong. At least, that's what he says. They caught it really early, so everyone's telling me he's going to be just fine, that it's practically nothing. It's just- After my mom, there's no such thing as practically nothing, you know? She was 'highly curable,' but that didn't mean anything then, and it doesn't mean anything to me now."

"I don't blame you," Blaine said softly. It had taken months for Kurt to open up about his mom and the fear of losing his dad; it had actually been right after their biggest fights. Kurt had always been a health food enforcer but at that point had never offered any explanation. So when Blaine had come bearing a deliciously unhealthy cheesecake for his first dinner with Kurt's parents, Kurt had come a bit unglued. Over the course of it all, the pair had ended up in the driveway, one threatening to leave quickly followed by the other. Finally, Blaine had snapped, "I was just trying to be polite. Why does it matter if you have cheesecake with dinner once in awhile? One piece never killed anyone." At which, Kurt dissolved into tears and spilled everything: his mother had died of breast cancer eight years earlier; his father had had a heart attack only a few months before which had put Kurt back on edge; and he was entirely terrified that he would lose the one person in his life who meant the most to him. They had both cried that night. "But if it means anything, I have faith in him to be okay."

"Thanks," Kurt whispered, smiling through his watery eyes. "I'm trying to." After a pause, "But, um, how are you? What's been-"

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" The words left Blaine's mouth before he'd realized he said them. "I mean, it's one thing that we pretend things are the way they used to be, but they're different. _We're_ different. And I want to be with you, but I also don't want to do this unless you're sure. I don't want us to keep hurting each other."

"I think so," Kurt answered. "I- I'm still hurt, and I'm still angry, and it kind of comes in waves. And I know that I hurt you, too, and whatever happened, it didn't undo that hurt. But underneath all that, you're still my best friend, and I want to get back to that and eventually to... More than that. If you do."

"You have no idea how much I do."

"Then let's work on it. I'm not going anywhere."

And suddenly, the world seemed a little more survivable to Blaine.


	6. Fourteen Weeks

**I sometimes wonder if I should give you guys my personal chapter titles (beyond the date in weeks). They alternate between very revealing about the chapter and pure sarcasm. ("Spring Breaks Were Made of This," was last chapter. This one is, "As if We Had Most Certainly Said Goodbye.") It's your guys' call if you would like me to begin including them. I'm pretty content either way. Anyway, this is a bit shorter than my normal standard, but it is a bit of a Klaine fluff chapter, and it does make a difference for our boys. I hope you enjoy this. If you do, let me know! Your reviews honestly do mean the world to me. **

"I can't believe it's already time for you to go," Blaine mumbled into his boyfriend-once-more's neck, not even trying to mask the sadness in his voice. It had been a long week but, overall, a good one. There had been many laughs, many tears, and more yelling than either boy would care to admit, but for the first time, they were truly on the mend, as individuals and as a couple.

A low hum was, at first, the only answer he received, until Kurt's chin dropped to rest on his gelled hair. "I don't want to go. It's almost like high school again, but you won't be there with me."

"Yes, I will," Blaine answered softly, wrapping his arms a little tighter around Kurt's middle. "You can call me any time, and I will be a constant presence in your inbox, I promise. Besides," he glanced up at his boyfriend, eyes smiling, "it's only about ten more weeks until you will be back at Vogue and going half-time to NYU, doing everything you love without the pressure of the high school-esque caste system of NYADA."

"And a few months after that, you will be there with me," Kurt added. "And then, not long after that, _both_ of you will be there with me." There was a long pause. "We're not going to mess this up again, are we?"

Blaine instantly flashed back to the pinnacle of their week together; after two days of solid yelling and bearing all of the built up hurt on both sides, it had been the moment in which he truly, with all his heart, believed they would survive. Afraid of unsolicited advice from parents and friends, the pair had hidden away in the choir room long after the rest of the New Directions had gone home.

_Kurt sat at the piano, his fingers brushing against the familiar keys. "It's so strange to come back," he murmured, not meeting Blaine's eyes. "When I came back, after Dalton, I sang, 'As If We'd Never Said Goodbye.' It just- Coming back here, even with all of the drama and the hurt, it felt like home. It doesn't feel like that anymore."_

"_Why?"_

"_It isn't familiar anymore," Kurt confessed quietly, his fingers brushing Blaine's hip accidentally as he placed his hand between them on the shared piano bench. Neither boy seemed to notice the contact. "I don't know my way around here anymore. The halls are the same; they haven't changed the cheesy posters or the gunky, subpar tile floors. But inside, it's different. I don't know these faces; I don't know how to talk to them or how to find my place again."_

"_You will always have a place, Kurt," Blaine answered, cautiously placing his hand on top of Kurt's and celebrating when the older boy didn't pull away. They alternated between being entirely receptive of old intimacies and blanching at each other's touch. "And the people are all pretty much the same. Yes, for a while, we were foolish and only a small step above the other bullies in this school, but that didn't completely change who we were. If anything, we came out older and wiser from the mistakes we made at the start of the year. You still know us better than any of them. You're a part of us."_

"_But even though you say everything is the same, it isn't. You've been through it all, so you don't see how clearly different everything is."_

"_We're not talking about the glee club anymore, are we?" Blaine asked sadly, only to be rewarded with a short, sarcastic laugh._

"_Were we ever?" At which, Blaine laughed, too._

"_No, I guess we weren't. I- Kurt, I know I've changed. I had to. In six months, I'm going to be a dad. There's going to be another life depending on me. It's- It's made me grow up. A lot, and fast. There are things I should have realized a lot sooner." His fingers traced small circles on the back of Kurt's hand, and his free hand gently cupped his ex-boyfriend's pale cheek. "What it means to be dependable; that you have to be entirely accountable for your actions before you can do anything to move forward; and that sometimes, communication doesn't just mean talking, but talking about the important things. _

"_But the rest of me... I still geek out at the slightest mention of Harry Potter; my iPod is still exclusively filled with Top 40 hits and Broadway classics; I haven't let go of the hope that this world is going to get better; and I am still and will always be irrevocably in love with you."_

_Kurt's eyes snapped up to his, and Blaine couldn't help but feel his heart break at the cacophony of fear, hope and sadness in his gaze. That was truly his biggest regret, he decided. Before, he'd said it was destroying them, together, but bigger still, he regretted breaking _him_. His boyfriend had always been a sceptic of the world; he'd always seen the hatred all around him, and almost always, he'd spit in its face, defying any limits society had ever put on him. But he had trusted Blaine. For once, he'd had a voice telling him he was enough, he was beautiful, he was sexy... Then Blaine had taken that from him, and a portion of his self-confidence with it. _That_ was what Blaine hated himself for the most; he deserved the pain he'd brought upon himself, but Kurt hadn't. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have- I know you're not ready for that. Back to best friends first."_

"_I still love you, too," Kurt whispered, his voice barely audible over the custodian's vacuum in the classroom next door. "I- With everything with my dad, and without having you there- I had to learn again how to be on my own, and I needed it. I needed to see clearer and be reminded of how important people can be to your life and how much I always take them for granted. Life is short, Blaine. And I'm tired of letting anger and hurt keep me from living it. I forgive you, for everything, and I really hope you can forgive me too."_

"_You know I do," Blaine murmured, half-pulling Kurt onto his lap in a ferocious hug. "I forgave you a long time ago."_

"_Then I'm ready," Kurt said, his voice finally a normal tone again. "We have to communicate better. If something upsets us, we can't just brush over it like we have been. But, if we can do that, then I- I want to try again. I want to be an _us_." _

_And Blaine kissed him, long and slow. It wasn't heated or urgent, only certain. Strong. They could do this. _

_Several kisses later, the boys crept out of the deserted building, the maintenance staff having long since left, and a detail from their earlier conversation popped in Blaine's mind._

"_Hey. The gunky floors weren't your version of the gel in my hair, were they?"_

_Kurt only laughed and slid an arm around his waist. _

A full three days later, they had a plan, a renewed friendship, and a rekindled romance, and Blaine could not have been happier. "No, Kurt. This time, we are going to do just fine."


End file.
